Page 67 of Selling Innocence
She tilted her head, her look making me feel foolish. “You really think I care about that?”
“You should. When this is over, you’ll still be here. This’ll still be your school. You’ve got a future to consider, and you don’t need to have people spreading rumors about you.”
“You should take a page from Vance’s book and not worry so much about what other people think.”
“I don’t care about it for myself. I care about you.”
“Then you should know I don’t care. They can think what they want. We know the truth, so what does it matter?”
She’d intended her words to reassure me, no doubt, so why did they bother me so much?
“Of course. I mean, it would be crazy to think we were romantic, wouldn’t it?” I tried to keep my voice even, to not let her hear the bitterness as I said that.
Kenz reached out and set her hand over mine, the touch surprising me so much, I nearly yanked away. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t say I don’t care because we know it isn’t true, but because I wouldn’t care if anyone thought that.”
“I’m double your age, Kenz. You should be smarter when it comes to men.” Why was it that everything I said sounded like the advice an old man would give to a kid suddenly?
“That doesn’t matter to me. I care about who a person is and how they make me feel. Their age or background or job or anything like that? None of that matters to me.” She squeezed my hand, and if I’d been eighteen still, I wouldn’t have been able to resist kissing her.
She was too damned lovely in the sun like this, her dark hair glossy, her pink lips tempting. I would have lost myself in the romantic moment and crossed that distance, onlookers be damned.
But I wasn’t a kid anymore, and I had to think clearly even if she didn’t.
I gently extracted my hand from hers. “Well, I care, even if you don’t.”
The way she dropped her gaze had me almost ready to apologize, but one of us had to be tough. It would be far less painful for her in the long run to let go of any strange notions she had now rather than letting them linger in her head.
After that, the conversation all but died. We both ate in silence, but the food had lost some of its deliciousness. The tension soured the flavor, made it tougher to chew.
When we’d finished, Kenz closed the containers and packed everything back up, working hard to avoid my gaze.
And boy did I hate that.
Sure, I’d needed to say what I had, to make sure she understood each of our places, but I didn’t care for the dejected way she moved, now.
When she got up, I helped to fold the blanket, then handed it to her. She made sure our fingers didn’t so much as brush.
That’s for the best.
A strange feeling behind me alerted me. It was an old, honed skill, one that had kept me alive more times than I could count.
I twisted, tucking Kenz behind me as I did so. She stiffened but didn’t pull away as though she’d figured out the reason I’d do such a thing so suddenly.
Sure enough, a familiar face appeared across the grass lawn, headed our way.
Bradley Chains, the man who ran the auction where I bought Kenz. I’d met him a time or two, of course, but we’d had little interaction beyond that. He ran the auction whereas I simply attended from time to time. We were in entirely different worlds.
However, his gaze locked on Kenz and me said he’d come to speak to us.
I didn’t move, keeping Kenz safely behind me, until he reached where we stood.
“A college campus isn’t the sort of place I expected to see you at,” I said.
“It isn’t. The days of co-eds and frat parties are long behind me. However, I felt this was a far more comfortable and neutral place in which to meet. People tend to get worried when I show up at their homes.” Bradley dressed nicely enough to draw attention, yet he didn’t appear bothered by it.
“Can you blame people? You’re not the type to show up for coffee and chitchat.”
He laughed softly as though conceding the point. “You have caused me problems, and I dislike when people cause me trouble.”